


Falling, In Reverse

by deepfriedshortpeople (SerendipitousSong)



Series: Death Comes [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Reverse Modern Girl in Middle Earth, The Two Trees of Valinor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 01:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/deepfriedshortpeople
Summary: It began with a terrible tug on his hair. Thus, Glorfindel met his doom.After waking up on a remote, private beachfront owned by a quaint family of three, the elf lord in question disvovers what became of a long lost love.





	1. El Fin

It began with a terrible tug on his hair.

In his last moments, the elf lord was dragged over the edge of a great chasm, with flames and ice falling around him. The sky above was filled with screams, and the stars watched as his city was razed to the ground. His home.

One moment a jagged rock speared through his back, out his stomach, and excruciating pain was burning him alive while he froze in the mountains. Death came slowly, like the dripping of icicles in the thaw of spring. Inch by inch, darkness crept into his vision -- or was it the smoky ruin of his adversary? His breath puffed and disappeared into the night, joining the souls of his friends and comrades. Soon, he too would join.

In the next moment, just as the dark had filled in his eyes and his blood ran no more, he inhaled. Deeply.

And he opened crystalline eyes. There was no more pain, no more frost or fire. His vision was filled with a clear but grey sky, and the chill across his skin was no more than a windy pulse. Sand beneath his back, and sloshing waves to his left, the elf lord rose and breathed again.

A peaceful home on a rocky hill to his right caught his eye. It was like no other building he'd seen before, made with painted wood and glass, and a rotunda overlooking the sea. Its main structure stood on stilts dug into the cliffside, with two ridges towering on the left and right. Bright glass reflected the dim sunlight barely breaching the clouds.

This was death, it seemed.

With steps only a certain surety can provide, the elf lord made his way to the carved steps in the cliffside. Long golden hair whipped about in the wind as he climbed, marking his progress for anyone watching.


	2. En la Tormenta

There was a storm blowing in. The breeze was cold and everytime Lauren peeked out the giant bay windows, the entire bay was whitecapped. Peace and calm reigned, as always before a storm. Even those vicious gulls were gone.  _ Perfecto _ , she thought.

While the weather teetered on the verge of raging, indoors provided warmth and safety. Expensive wood flooring, thick rugs, a vintage tea set prepped and steaming, and plush armchairs furnished the modern beach house sunroom. Lauren thought -- not for the first time -- that the interior decorator her mother had hired might have needed a bit more schooling, and more to work with than the phrase, ‘ _ cozy.’ _

Lauren rose from her perch on the bay window and padded into the next room, which doubled as an office and recording studio. How her twin managed to make that work, she had no idea. She also could not wrap her head around the perpetual mess it was always in.

As soon as she entered, she was bombarded with a Lincoln Brewster bassline. Wires snaked along the wall behind the soundboard, sheets of music smothered his writing desk, and all the nameless recording equipment was dusty. His rack of guitars was the only thing in mint condition. In the center of it all, Perry sat typing out notes in his beanbag, staring from laptop to textbook.

“So what, you’re not gonna clean?”

Perry just leaned back lazily. “Nope, I'll get that done  _ after _ I do homework.” He fished a chip from a hidden bag. “I'm prioritizing.”

“Prioritizing? That's funny.”

“What's funny is how you look.”

“What's  _ funny _ ,” Lauren shot back, “is  _ your _ lame-ass.”

“Your mo--” Perry started, but they were interrupted by their mother hollering down the stairs in some choice Spanish.

The twins looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Damn, she really getting mad over this?”

“Dude, shut up.”

_ “¡Cállate, estoy tomando una prueba!”  _ their mother yelled.

“Shouldn’t you be taking a test, too? Coach had it due like, three days ago.” Lauren found some sick satisfaction in her brother’s embarrassment.

Perry sat up and resumed his note taking. “Okay, okay,” he groaned indignantly. “Go away and lemme work!” He went back to his laptop, click-clacking away for a few quiet moments. Just as Lauren turned to leave, he spoke suddenly.

“Did you come in here just to call me out like an asshole?”

Lauren, feeling bad, said, “No, just to see what you’re up to. I’m sleepy and bored.”

“Well go be bored somewhere else. Leave us slackers alone.” Even laidback little brother Perry could not hide the mild hurt in his voice.

While Perry continued typing away in his dusty studio, Lauren went back to her spot, wedged in with fuzzy throws and decorative pillows. The glass had cooled, causing her breath to fog up. With a finger she drew horrid stick people holding swords, spears, and bows. She briefly considered making use of the fireplace, but decided against it on the grounds that she had no idea how to work it. Also, it was as old as the house itself, somehow passing muster during the recent remodel. Even the chill of a winter storm on the coast of southeastern Texas was not worth a gas fire.

Drowsiness crawled over her eventually. Lauren sat in her window staring blankly for who knows how long, nestled safely among a pile of mink blankets, as ocean waves melded with the bay and the baywater brushed the shore. Wave after wave came in, lulling her into a trance with its constant motion.  _ Just a nap, _ she thought blearily,  _ and then I'll see about cleaning my room, too. _

Just as the soundproofed guitar riffs next door had put her to sleep, a crack of lightning split the sky and scorched the sand; deafening thunder rattled her head. Jolted, Lauren fell right off her seat. The floor creaked. Lights flickered out. Even the glass of every window was shaking from the force of the bolt.

Lauren’s heart pounded almost as hard as her temples. Half of her tried to drag her to find Perry and their mother, make sure they were alright. Surely a shock like this couldn't be good for her mother’s blood pressure.

The other half successfully hauled herself towards the bay windows once again, to peek outside.

What she saw startled her.

It was a man. Far out, down the stretch of sand that was their backyard, a man with the brightest blonde hair Lauren had ever seen (and her best friend’s aunt was as Anglo as they came, her hair was  _ blonde _ ) lay right in the black scorch mark.

Terror ripped through her. “Ma!  _ Ma! _ ”

“ _ ¡Laurelína! ¡Telpérion! _ ”

Footsteps sounded behind her, stumbling in the dark. “ _ ¿Estás bien? ¿Dónde está Telpérion? _ ” Her mother nearly strangled her in an embrace.

Lauren replied automatically, “ _ En su estudio, como siempre.  _ But look!” she pointed towards the scorch mark, where the man had risen and was looking around, confused. “I think he was struck by the lightning, Mom! What do we do?” 

Her mother stared at the man. Her eyes blinked open wide, as if she recognized him, but in the split second it happened that look wiped itself off. In its place, her mother cursed.

“Woah Mom, chill,” Perry huffed from behind them. “What happened? My phone was charging and got fried from the outage.” 

“ _ Llama a una ambulancia, Perry, _ ” their mother whispered breathlessly. He scrambled to do just that. To Lauren she ordered, “ _ Lauren, conmigo. _ ”

On the way out the back door, her mother snatched up her medical bag. The man had seemed fine, but one could never be too careful.

 

* * *

 

 

Rain had begun to sprinkle by the time Lauren and her mother stumbled down the first steps in the cliffside. The bay was restless now, whitecaps throwing fits across the surface, and a biting wind tore across their skin. Once they were enclosed in rock, the wind seemed less vicious and allowed them to run down to the sand.

Other houses on the bay were without power as well, possibly from power lines being knocked down in the momentary chaos. Hairline fractures of lightning threatened to touch down, masking the usual salty taste on the breeze. Even the very air felt staticky in Lauren's lungs.

She was halfway down the cliff when she spotted the mysterious blonde ambling down the stretch. His golden locks were a beacon, whipping all about as he casually ignored the storm. It was like he didn’t even notice it, actually, and not that he was ignoring it. As if the very elements did not --  _ could not _ \-- affect him.

“ _ ¡No pares! _ ”

“I  _ voy _ ,” she automatically responded in broken Spanish.

Her mother was nearly to the sand. Getting down the steep steps only took about two minutes but to Lauren, for whom time stood still as she gazed at the man, it seemed an eternity. Even the lightning up in the roiling clouds froze over. She couldn’t move.

From so far, Lauren should not have been able to tell what color his eyes were. There were about a hundred yards still between them, and she was squinting against the biting wind. But when he locked gazes with her, she was startled by the blueness.

Lauren had lived near water for most of her life; she learned to swim in the turquoise shores of Panamá, sailed the sapphire waves of Greece, and had walked across Whitehaven Beach. Her middle name was Azul, for crying out loud! All of those places could not compare to the luminous shade of indigo in his irises.

He was beautiful.

He looked a hell of a lot like…

_ Her. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> 1\. Perfect.
> 
> 2.Shut up, I'm taking a test!
> 
> 3\. Laurelin! Telperion!
> 
> 4\. Are you alright? Where is Telperion?
> 
> 5\. In his studio, as usual.
> 
> 6\. Call an ambulance, Perry. Lauren, with me.
> 
> 7\. Don't stop!
> 
> 8\. Should technically say "Yo voy" (I'm coming) as "yo" means "I" in Spanish, but I'll eat my phone if you say Spanish speakers from the valleys of Texas don't slip into Tex-Mex. It's a thing we do. Don't @ me, white people (even if fluent) don't interact :))

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a selfie posted by a friend on Twitter and thought "She's so hot. Wonder what an elf would think of her" which then spawned an entire AU where everyone who dies goes to the beach before they reach the afterlife.
> 
> The title comes from a 5 year old conversation with a buddy about emo bands.
> 
> I wrote this to ignore my pending Google docs for Blue Devils, Tragic Comedy, and Zahar...
> 
> \-- Shortfry/Dips/whoever the hell Im posting as


End file.
